


Fate

by abo_trash



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Vampire, but theyre still the same characters, listen i promise im going to explain this more in the story, okay so none of the characters have the same last name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abo_trash/pseuds/abo_trash
Summary: It's been almost thirty years since Heather Chandler killed herself, since Ram and Kurt killed each other in a suicide pact, since J.D. blew himself up.Martha Dunnstock has moved back into town, bringing her two teenage kids with her. Neither are very happy about the move, especially not knowing that the town is where their mother's childhood best friend killed herself, along with the suicides of four other teens a couple years before. They're forced to start school in their mother's old highschool, hoping things will work out better for them.





	1. Prologue

Dirt was tossed about carelessly, the twin shovels put to good use. It had been a long time since they had to dig up a grave, but that didn’t mean they were out of practice. No matter how long they put between each ‘death’ or how long they went without digging up a grave, they were experts at it. However, that didn’t make it any less annoying, any less _boring_.

“Ugh, I hate this,” Heather Duke groaned, throwing another shovel full of the dirt over her shoulder. It landed with a dull thump with the rest of her growing pile, though it was still easily half the size of the twin pile across the grave from her. With a huff, Heather McNamara looked up at her, her own shovel stuck halfway into the dirt.

“We could have been done with this like, two years ago, if you’d just let me kill myself sooner,” Heather McNamara said, her eyes narrowed and glinting dangerously in the dark light. Her curly hair was a mess, dirt smeared across her cheeks, and her clothes were dirty and ragged, but she didn’t seem to mind. Not right now anyways, not after having to dig herself out of her own grave, especially since Heather Duke was hardly any help. She had been the last one alive this time, and was the least helpful when it came to digging graves. Sometimes, it felt easier to just let her sit it out, but they were in a rush tonight, and needed to hurry up before daybreak.

“Shut up Heather!” Heather Duke snapped in return, her own eyes shining as she glared across the grave. Despite the fact they had no lights around and were relying on what peeked out of the moon, they could both see each other clearly. Even if it had been a new moon with no light whatsoever, they would have been able to see each other just fine. Better than being out in broad daylight anyways. Their eyes were built for darkness after all, so being out came easy to them.

“Sorry Heather,” Heather McNamara mumbled, tossing another load of dirt over her shoulder. There was a terse silence that fell over them afterwards, with nothing left to say.

They focused on the task at hand, trying to dig up the casket that held their prize. It had been a few years since it had been buried, and while that should have made it to dig out of, the dirt was packed tighter, especially since the grave had been frequently visited. Not that it wasn’t a frequent thing, graves were often a memorial after all, it just made their job harder in the long run. Things would have been so much easier if they had ended this when Heather McNamara had wanted to, instead of letting Heather Duke keep up with her charade of being leader for the rest of highschool.

Finally, their shovels scratched against the wood of the coffin and Heather McNamara let out a triumphant noise, throwing her hands up in the air. It seemed like they had been digging on the grave forever, at least most of the night, and now that it was almost over with, it meant they were a step closer to being done with this dumb town.

It didn’t take long to scrape enough dirt off the top of the coffin to open it, Heather McNamara even resorting to dropping to her knees in her excitement. Heather Duke stayed standing, throwing more of the dirt out with the shovel. She hated when Heather McNamara got like this, and they both knew it. That didn’t stop her from doing it though.

In no time at all, the lid to the coffin was pried open, perhaps easier than it should have been, and they were face to face with none other than the third member of their clique, their leader, Heather Chandler, as she had been known in her life. Her face was perfectly preserved, as if she had just died yesterday. She was the picture of beauty, features as perfect as the day she had been placed in the grave. She was still, but that didn’t stop Heather Duke from hitting the shovel head against the open coffin lid hard. “Come on! Wake up! We know you’re faking it, and I’d prefer to fill up this grave before the sun rises, if that’s okay with you, your majesty.”

Heather Chandler’s eyes shot open and focused on Heather Duke, narrowed slightly, before she moved. It was as if she had forgotten how, her joints stiff, and Heather McNamara was there in seconds, helping her sit up and grinning widely, unable to completely sit still in her excitement. Heather Duke sat back, leaning on the dirt wall behind her, while Heather Chandler climbed out of the coffin, her bones creaking as she leaned into Heather McNamara for support. She stood up to her full height after a moment more, while Heather McNamara shut the coffin top.

“Fuck off, Heather. It’s your fault I had to rot in that damn grave for so long anyways. You know how stiff I get when I’m stuck like that for too long.”

“And you’re the dumbass that got herself killed by drinking draino. I mean, really? Were you that eager to get out of Sherwood? Or were you just that sick of your lackey? You knew she was going to get obsessive when you bit her, and she was already pretty obsessive to begin with,” Heather Duke grumbled, throwing her shovel out of the grave. With ease, she jumped out of the hole they had dug, followed shortly by Heather McNamara. Heather McNamara was back on her knees though, offering her hands to Heather Chandler and slowly helping their stiff friend out of the grave.

“Shut up, Heather! I didn’t know she was going to fucking… I didn’t realise what it was until after I drank it. Besides, she was fucking psycho. She was seeing Kurt and Ram. Like, hallucinating that they were following her around too, Heather Chandler huffed, dusting herself off, her bones clicking and popping. Everything about her was still stiff and not quite used to moving again already, so it was a bit of an effort to do anything at all. She slowly rolled her head from side to side after a moment, then stretched her arms out above her head, popping her back and letting out a small groan of relief. "God that feels so good… Been so long since I could stretch out like that.”

“I’ve never heard of a human react that way to projections before,” Heather McNamara mumbled as she grabbed her shovel, quietly starting to move the dirt back into the grave. They only had a few hours before sunrise, and their hold on the guard would be gone by then, so they had to hurry if they wanted to leave the town without anyone catching them. It would be hard to explain Heather Duke, who had supposedly been kidnapped earlier that weak, and harder still to explain the walking and talking corpses of her deceased best friends.

Heather Duke was quiet for a moment before starting to throw the dirt back into the grave as well, doing her best to speed things up. While she was normally rather slow, she knew that she had to make up for Heather Chandler’s stiffness, and didn’t have time to waste on the matter. “Who cares? She’s dead now anyways. Not like we’ll ever have to worry about her again,” she grunted, while Heather Chandler sighed and grabbed up the spare shovel the two had set aside just for her once they had dug her out. She started throwing dirt back into the grave as well, surprised by how heavy it felt and how much it hurt to know that Veronica had killed herself a week before.

Still, life moved on for the Heathers, and they couldn’t let some dumb bloodbag get in the way of moving on with life, especially not now that Heather McNamara and Heather Chandler were both 'dead’, and Heather Duke was missing. Their world moved on, as it had for hundreds of years now, and as it would for hundreds more to come.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, this fic is kind of on a back burner because of db, but im still working on it! promise!

“Verrrrronica! Time to wake up!” Ram cried as he burst into his little sister's room, the door slamming open and smashing into the wall behind it. The loud crash that came from it echoed through the whole house, but it was just the two of them, their mother already having left for work, so there was no scolding to come. The noise, combined with her older brother's screaming, had startled her awake, though she would argue ever being asleep in the first place. She kicked and scrambled out of the bed, blankets tossed askew as she jerked to sit up, before she heard Ram snicker from the doorway. “God, you're such an idiot. Get up, before we're late for school.”

It hit her once that everything was fine, that she wasn't under attack, that there was nothing going on. That had just been her brother, being a huge dick as usual. She huffed as she glared at him and he grinned in return. She would really have to get a lock on her new door. They had only moved in the house a week before, not even enough time to finish unpacking, and already he had burst into her room, every morning, at precisely seven. Just after his morning run when he knew she would still be asleep. She should have expected it by now, but she was kind of hoping he'd grow tired of it eventually. Apparently, that wasn't the case. At least not yet.

“Oh, fuck off, Ram!” she growled, grabbing her pillow and throwing it at him in retaliation for his scare. He dodged the thrown pillow rather easily and snatched it up once it hit the ground, before grinning at his sister in a way that struck fear through her. Oh no. Not already this morning. She knew what that look meant, and before she could even form a coherent protest, he was running down the hall towards his room. “Hey! Fuck! Give that back!”

“Come get it skank!” came from his retreating form, before his door slammed shut. She could hear the lock click through the empty house and let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back onto the bed and pulling the covers over her head. Today was going to be a long day. And it hadn't even really started yet.

With a groan, she puled herself out of bed and shut her bedroom door. She had to get dressed, and the pillow situation could wait- until after school, if it came to it. For now, she was focused on getting ready. The pajamas from the night before were shed and changed out for a set of acceptable school clothes that were then hidden under a jacket two sizes too big. It was more of a security blanket than anything, something that had been constant since she had gotten it a couple years back. It was well worn and dingy, but it was something that she held dear. Through her parents' divorce, through the last couple new schools and new homes, the jacket remained something she could hold onto. So she did.

Nearly twenty minutes had passed since Ram had scared her awake, and she did her best to use makeup to hide the bags under her eyes before heading off towards his room. Since moving in, she hadn't slept well, and she tried to convince herself it was because she wasn't used to the new house, but knew that wasn't really the case. Being here, in the town where her mother had grew up, where four teenagers had killed themselves, where her mother's best friend had taken her own life two years later… It kept her awake at night.

Though her mother never talked about it, never mentioned the names of the teens or her friend, she had done some digging when she found out where they were moving to. She had read all about the four teens who killed themselves, about her mother's best friend, about other student's suicide attempts…She had been shaken to her core, not quite understanding why her mother would want to move back here, but didn't complain. It wouldn't have done any good after all. She had shut kept quiet, let her mother drag her along to the town, and hadn't mentioned a word of it to her older brother.

Even now, as she knocked on his door and leaned against the nearest wall, she knew it wouldn't do any good. The kids were long dead. Her mother had grown past that part of her life. They'd only moved back because of her grandparents. Not because of kids nearly thirty years dead.

“Come on, Ram! I'm ready to go!” she yelled, waiting patiently for her older brother to answer the door. She closed her eyes as she waited, focusing on the cool feeling of the wall through her shirt. While she was nervous to be starting a new school, especially on her junior year of highschool, she wasn't too worked up over it. They were highschoolers. At most, they'd be like her brother. Annoying, but she could deal with them for a couple years until she graduated. It couldn't be that bad, really. Or at least, she couldn't think of how bad it would be. It wasn't like they were going to murderers or anything.

“Oh, finally awake, Ronnie?” Ram asked through the door, and she could hear him shuffling about. A sigh escaped her and she ran a hand through her hair. He knew she hated that nickname, and he continued to use it on a regular basis, just to annoy her. She supposed it was just part of him being her brother, showing that he cared about her, but it didn't make him any less of a dick.

“Don't call me that! Ugh… Come on, asshole, we've got to go to school already. If we miss the first day, mom's gonna be upset, and I'm really not looking forward to seeing her cry again.” There was a pause, silence on the other end of the door, before it cracked open. She turned to look at him, barely cracking her eyes open as she looked up at her brother. Ram's eyes were narrowed as he stared her down, seeming to be looking for something in her face, before he jerked the door open the rest of the way. Without a word, he started off down the steps, and she quietly followed, her hands tucked into her jacket pocket and face buried into her scarf. Even though it wasn't really cold out, she wasn't planning on wasting a moment of cold weather.

Together, the two left the house and loaded into Ram's pick up truck. Not another word was exchanged between them as Ran drove to school, a dull silence between them that wasn't entirely unusual on their rides to school. For the past three years, they had been riding together to school, and while they had tried to talk while they had been younger, they both knew by now that silence was the best course of action. The only sound in the car was the music her brother had burned to a disc and the roar of the motor. Otherwise, it was quiet.

That was fine with her. She focused on the landscape, trying to memorise the way to school so she could walk if it came to it. While she doubted her brother would actually leave her- on purpose anyways- it didn't mean that there wouldn't be times he wouldn't come to school, or he would forget about her. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but on the first day of school in a new city, her junior year no less, there was no telling what was to come.


End file.
